Luyện nghe bài hát Non-Objective Portrait Of Karma

Ignorance is bliss no wise woman's failed to
and surely some koan suggests 'neglect leads to
but the more I turn my face from the
the more I feel my backs' compelled
for the sake of escape, to a knife on itself,
a knife of relief, from all the petty
and finally sleep, I'll sleep through the night.
Bored as on this street corner-cover.
study of a face in a figure. surveying this as a game
of this language as the plague.
the of persistence condemns.
portrait of karma, crafted in accident
text book seduction, minus the in the language of ghosts
and so we ran, the wolves were biting,
the inhibitions of their prey kept them from
"scratch my back and I will you in yours"
so I chose to live this life alone, the teeth marks
but I predict, I'll to sink my fangs in someone else's heart to heal my own.
just a victim's split, one for the wolves, one part for you.
but I'll grow weary soon, weary of fractal code,
of this hallway lined with ghosts.
just a scratch the skin, a drop of blood to let them in
their words will cause the sweetest from a stone's throw
just a scratch upon the skin, a drop of to welcome them
parasitic, viral critics, or lovers, spirits mingling in the mist
we crafted, a starving jury, let them eat shit from our trembling hands.
The heat for sake, on this Barnard block of Congress
deductively speaking, the of progress
well I put too much faith in the accident
entranced, we danced toward the display of escape
let the starving feats, from this flesh, from these bones,
let them all feast. light as a feather, stand back let the starving ghosts feast In this chess game of language, forced to sit so I play all alone, watch the bathos drift forth like the petals a wild crafted rose.